Knight and Seer
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: "It had become something of an obsession, and the joy of it was tearing him slowly apart." Dave struggles with his unusual and very flushed fascination with his ectobiological sister. Set almost three years after Karkat and the gang set off in their meteor. This may or may not be a prequel to "Martyr". I don't own the art, so if you do, tell me and I'll remove it! *SUSPENDED.*


Dave paused his hand, about to knock on her bedroom door. He wasn't sure what he wanted—a sensation he had never felt before, or at least convinced himself he hadn't. There was a roiling wall of shadowy, forbidden emotions, ones he had worked since he'd met herto conceal. He wasn't accustomed to being thwarted by feelings. But in this case, he'd be surprised if Jack Noir himself were able to cope.

Oh, she was perfect, of course, in the most infuriating way possible. A girl would _have _to be perfect to catch Dave's attention. She teased and poked and prodded at everyone's emotions, tried to document how she thought people should act based on their personality. She was a big fan of typing systems and had Dave pinned down as a "five with both wings, one of which is counterphobic six", whatever the fuck that meant. By 'numerology', she had him nailed as an eight. How these random numbers revealed how people functioned was beyond Dave, but he put up with it.

He would put up with anything she did to him. Anything at all.

Leaning up against the wall before her door, Dave tried to shake the image of her out of his head. For the first time ever, he was ashamed. He had never been ashamed of how he felt—he only worked to conceal his emotions so that no one else could judge him. Now, shame positively flattened his spirits. It was forbidden for him to feel this way, and he knew it. He just couldn't help it.

It wasn't fair.

_ "We both know that was a lot of horseplay bullfuckery between, like, smartass ten-year-olds, or whatever." _His ironic words from more than a year ago came echoing back to him and he leaned his head back against the wall, frustrated with everything. Kanaya didn't understand why it was forbidden for him to feel the way he did, so he could easily have stopped trying to show off his ironic apathy for her, and he wouldn't have gotten himself into this mess.

He started as the door opened in front of him. Rose, the girl he loved and hated too much for his own damn good, in her strangely flattering Seer of Light getup. Dave blinked slightly, grateful for his ever-present sunglasses that hid his emotions. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, he was soulless, and liked being that way.

"Strider," she greeted, sounding suspicious. "What are you doing here?"

"Chilling," responded Dave after a slight pause as he encouraged his vocal cords to work again. Whenever she walked into the room, it seemed to become airless. That was why he avoided seeing her unless he was the one to set the terms of when she was in view.

Rose crossed her arms. "Dave Strider, the famous coolkid, has decided to honor this hallway with his presence? A shocking development indeed!" She smirked a little as she leaned against the doorway, and God help him, Dave loved that smirk. The corner of his mouth twitched and he fought to keep the smile off his face. Smiling may have been a normal reaction for any other guy when in the presence of a crush, but Dave had to keep his poker face on, 24/7. His bro would have been disappointed in him otherwise.

"You should be in bed by now," she continued when Dave didn't say anything. "It's past midnight, you know, and you're not nocturnal like I've become." She examined a fingernail, and Dave wished he could catch her hand and look at it with her. Then it occurred to him what he had just voiced inwardly. _That's a thought worthy of John Fucking Egbert. Stop it, Dave. Just stop it._

"So you're entitled to stay up late, and I'm not. That's just great." Dave was careful to keep his voice level, as usual. "I didn't know there were double standards on this meteor, Lalonde."

Rose shrugged, a movement of her shoulders Dave found inexplicably fascinating. "Suit yourself," she sighed, and stepped forward, turning off the light and shutting the door behind her. Dave backed up against the wall almost as though she had threatened him, and he was grateful it was dark. Otherwise, he had no doubt she'd poke fun at him for being scared of her.

"Where are you going?" he managed.

"Strider, do you usually find my goings-on so fascinating? I'm only going to take a bath, you know." Dave could hear the smirk in her voice as she added, "With Kanaya. You, meanwhile, missed your invitation."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you did invite me to the bath party, then. I'm here now, so where's my invitation?"

"Oh, silly me. I must have accidentally dropped it when I saw you working on the mysterious Can Town with my library supplies." There were barbs in her voice that Dave loved provoking. He loved her deadly sweet voice that sang so well when she thought no one was listening.

No, he wasn't a stalker. He just occasionally heard her in the library, okay? Stop it. Stop it right now.

"What's going on between you two, anyway? Some kind of alien romance?" Dave maintained a carefully controlled level of apathy as he slyly changed the subject. She would never be the wiser.

Rose sighed, a sigh he loved almost as much as her smirk and her sarcasm. "Yes, we're in a quadrant. Though it's likely not the one you imagine." She started walking down the hall, and Dave debated staying right where he was and waiting for her, but decided that would be creepy.

Then an idea struck him. Time to snoop.

He opened the door carefully when he heard the door down the hall shut, and flicked on the light. Her room was unusually messy for someone so finicky, and it smelled vaguely of roses—big surprise. He walked around the room, examining everything: her bed, sheets orange and styled with the light emblem, was messy; there was a (locked) chest next to it, which seemed to serve as a bedside table; bookshelves lined the walls so much so that this room could easily be mistaken for yet another library; knitting was everywhere. And there was a chest of drawers on the wall opposite him with a few drawers propped open.

Dave immediately headed for the chest of drawers. The top drawer was full of hairbands and dresses, and he wondered where she had even gotten them all. The next drawer was shirts, the one below that skirts, and finally… Dave opened the last drawer, expecting the jackpot of embarrassing articles of clothing, but instead there were only several pairs of socks and a note.

_Dear Dave,_

_Since it can be expected that you will at some point decide to look around this room without my permission, and likely head straight for my chest of drawers due to the high likelihood of there being underwear there (your sense of humor, by the way, is unusually immature), might I just say that it's extremely rude to do so? You will not find my underwear here, nor my diary. If you really wish to examine such personal items, you will find them in my bedside chest._

_However, I always keep that chest locked, with the key around my neck. In order to open the chest, you'll need to get it somehow, and I highly doubt whether the matter is of such importance to you that you'll sneak into my room at night and behave rather like a Thief instead of a Knight._

_By the way, Thieves are a mostly-female class. I just thought I should inform you of the 'sick burn' you have just been subjected to, since I doubt whether you would have gotten the joke without my explanation._

_My apologies for failing to keep my personal belongings within your reach. Perhaps next time, you will heed my words of advice and not go rummaging through others' items without their permission, hmm?_

_~Rose_

Dave growled under his breath, carefully replaced the note, and sat on her bed for a moment as he tried to collect his thoughts a little. She was _so perfect. _To be able to thwart Dave Strider, coolkid and master snoop, took some serious foresight. Not to mention, it seemed like she had given some actual thought as to what he might do. This was unprecedented.

He jumped as the door opened. Rose stood in the doorway. The first thing Dave noticed was how absolutely, amazingly sexy she looked in a lilac bikini. The second thing he noticed was that her eyebrow was raised and she looked as though she might murder him at any second.

Rising, Dave put his hands up in a gesture of defeat and started towards the doorway, hoping he wasn't blushing as much as he thought he was, not to mention how much blood was going where he didn't want it. Not in front of his… 'sister'.

"And just what are you doing here?" The coldness in her voice chilled him more than he was willing to admit. As much as he loved the poison that always edged her voice when she addressed adversaries, whenever it entered him, it affected him worse than others.

"Looking around," he responded, as casually as he could under the circumstances. "Figured that since you were supposedly off having a bath with your girlfriend, I might as well take advantage of…" He noticed that her eyes were directed at the still-open bottom drawer. _Damn it._

"…The time you had to look for my undergarments?" finished Rose, frowning. "The time you had to find my secret, oh-so-desirable diary? Honestly, Strider, sometimes I wonder at the fascination you hold towards my possessions." She still hadn't stepped aside. Dave reached forward and tried to move the arm holding fast to the doorway. It didn't budge.

He sighed. "Why do you still want me here? You'd think Lalonde would want any intruders dead."

"Oh no. Not you. I don't want you dead." She finally moved aside, allowing him an exit, but now it was Dave's turn to remain motionless. He met her eyes accidentally, and though he knew she couldn't see his, he instantly looked away again. Eye contact was something that he was never good with, especially not with Rose.

"Something the matter, Strider?" she asked, sighing and picking up a robe. "I'd be happy to psychoanalyze you after my bath, but at the moment, I have to partake in my nightly ablutions, or else you'll find me repulsive, I've no doubt." She laughed and darted back to the doorway. Dave found that he was staring at her and fixed his gaze instead on her bed.

"No," he murmured, then coughed, never having meant to say that. "Are you and Kanaya going out?" he repeated, still watching her bed. The question seemed more important to him now than ever before, and that was saying something.

"Why, Dave!" exclaimed Rose, smirking and moving his face towards hers in a manner which she doubtless intended to be completely platonic but that Dave wished were of a more flushed nature. _Damn, I'm starting to sound like Rose with all his fancy language, _he thought as he cursed himself for thinking like that. She let go his face but insisted silently that he maintain eye contact. "Do you really care so much about my relationships?" she asked, and her breath smelled sweet, almost like bubble gum. "You may as well ask Karkat about _his _quadrants. Aren't they ever so much more fascinating? God knows he always wants to talk about them."

Dave's only reply was a shrug. He didn't want to get into an argument. All he wanted were answers. Why was Rose so intent on the opposite? It was part of what he loved so much about her—the roundabout replies which contrasted so nicely with his finely tuned sense of irony—but he still found it annoying whenever he actually wanted to know something.

"If you _must _know," sighed Rose eventually, "no, Kanaya and I are in neither of the concupiscent quadrants. We have, however, agreed to be moirails. Though I can't imagine why a coolkid would want to know about my quadrants." She gave him a suspicious look, and a chord of fear vibrated through Dave. _What if she's guessed?_

"Cool," he managed to say, feeling considerably more cheerful for reasons he could explain but wouldn't if anyone asked. Rose gave him a final, pensive look before turning and walking back down the hall, holding her white robe.

Dave let his breath out after he was sure she wouldn't come back. That had been a close one; he had been worried for awhile there that she would call him on his feelings. If there was one thing Dave couldn't stand, it was feelings—especially when people guessed his emotions. That was what his sunglasses were for. In addition to protecting from the light, they protected against his vulnerability.

_Whatever. It's time for a good night's sleep._

He turned his feet towards his room, heart light with the knowledge that Rose was single and heavy with the thought of never being able to let her know how he felt without being ridiculed.

**((I do _not _own the fanart I used for the cover; if anyone wishes me to take it down, I will, and gladly. Not only this, I don't own Homestuck either! If I did, it would be even more of a mess than Hussie has made it.**

**Anyway! I'm not really used to being Dave—more used to Rose… sorry for the more expansive vocabulary! I hope I did all right with the numerous patches of dialogue… Tell me how you like it so far!))**


End file.
